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Echoes In
My Mind
left of his face, coated lightly with grease. A man whose
eyes carried an aura of defeat.
Those eyes always managed to carry themselves towards
that neglected crop.
He’d been a farmer. Maize.
I’d watch him.
Helplessly beating through the fields, swatting flies away
with the flutters of his hands. ignoring the danger which
could lurk beneath his feet. Snakes. Spiders.
I’d never know what he was looking for. What his
purpose was.
Everyone knew there was nothing out there, beyond that
crumbling home.
‘
I watched the baby.
1.5kg.
Month and a half premature.
Squirmed helplessly for what seemed like months on end.
In that incubator.
The boy would come see
it
somedays; recoiling in disgust
as he’d inspect the ‘grossly’ deformed creature that
it
appeared to him.
It’s
wrinkly pink skin; the shrivelled little
appendages; the toes, curled in pure instinct. How it
seemed so helpless. So feeble.
He despised it.
He despised it; as he watched it grow up. Inch by inch; the
baby grew.
Into a capable young man.
He was no longer Little John.
He’d earned his name after many years. And the man
hated every inch of him.
‘
I watched the father.
He’d placed his son on his lap. His pride.
He always looked so proud. Face was always sickeningly
plastered with the widest grin. Million dollar smile; I
guess. How blessed.
He brushed his son’s curly hair out of his face and planted
a loving kiss on his forehead.
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